"You're gonna have to cut that fucking attitude out"
•••
Everyone at some point in their lives has done or said something that made them look completely stupid and then only realised afterwards that they probably seemed like a total idiot. In this situation, it was Brooklyn.
She mentally face palmed at her own stupidity as the stranger who also only just made himself known as Rick's enemy, plopped down on to the leather seat of the truck beside her.
Brooklyn sighed and shuffled away, suddenly uncomfortable in his presence. So many questions were swimming through her mind. Why was he fighting against Rick? Was the war his fault? Was he in the wrong or was it Rick?
But the most reoccurring one was- would she be a bad person if she went with him? No of course not, she was never with the Alexandrians in the first place. She was their prisoner. Yet Brooklyn's sub-conscious never had a straight answer and therefore was always contradicting itself.
Just jump out of the truck and run for your fucking life!
Wait no, don't do that because you can't run, unless you just limp, but that wouldn't be practical either...
"You okay sweetheart? You haven't said a fucking word," the gruff voice interrupted. He gazed down on the girl, his tongue flickering against his chapped lips.
Bullets shot through the windows of the truck causing shards of glass to shatter everywhere. Yet much to Brooklyn's surprise, the leader kept his cool and stuck his middle finger proudly in to the air whilst a man, presumably a saviour, kept his hands on the wheel.
Once they were far away enough for it to be safe, Brooklyn slowly lifted her head and sat back in her seat. Guilt began eating her alive at the thought of Rick, but why the hell would she feel guilty? She wasn't one of them.
"Darlin', are you gonna answer my fucking question?" The man chimed again, his coffee coloured eyes glaring in to her hazel orbs.
Brooklyn snapped out of her thoughts and wiped her clammy palms against her jeans. "Shit. Are you Nagen?" Was the only thing that managed to tumble out of her mouth.
She instantly regretted saying anything as the man snorted in amusement, "holy crap sweetheart. You are a-fuckin-dorable. No doll, it's Negan."
Brooklyn hummed, her cheeks turning bright red with utter embarrassment. She banged her head tiredly against the head rest and muttered, "fuck me," under her breath.
"Damn I didn't know you were that eager! Yes fucking please..."
Instantly shooting him a glare, Brooklyn huffed and rubbed her face with her hands, "that's not what I meant asshole!" She spat.
Saying that was obviously a mistake as the man now known as 'Negan' licked his lips, an unknown amount of anger hidden behind his devious smile.
"Woah! There's that fucking sass! Damn, I like you darlin', but if we're gonna get along, you're gonna have to cut that fucking attitude out when you're speaking to me. That clear?" He growled. And just like that, his eyes darkly narrowed, mesmerising the girl with a glowing ring of amber.
Brooklyn slowly nodded, whoever this Negan guy was, he was unpredictable. Now she was unsure whether going with this man was a mistake or not, yet she couldn't go back now. The choice that she'd made seemed like it could be the choice between life or death.
Maybe Negan was a good guy. No, screw that. No one was a good guy anymore. Brooklyn leant her elbow on her knees and hung her head in her hands, groaning inaudibly with frustration. Negan seemed reasonable so far, still, something about his charisma seemed off, as if there were so many untold things about him that she was yet to discover.
"Jesus sweetheart, lighten up a bit," the man chuckled, "I just fucking saved you from ol' Rick and the tiny dick brigade and now you're acting all depressing and shit!"
Brooklyn twisted her head and peeked through the gaps in between her fingers, what he was saying was true. At least he hadn't tied her hands up or acted that rude. In fact, he'd been quite the opposite. He'd saved her, offered her a home and for what? Because she saved him from a tiger? Or because she chose to help him instead of fighting for Rick?
"No, sorry I er," she stopped and took a deep breath, "thank you- Negan. Thank you for everything, for saving me, for trusting me enough to not tie my hands and for-"
"Fuck sweetheart, I don't need a fucking monologue," he teased, poking his tongue in between his two rows of teeth, "plus you should be proud."
The girl furrowed her brows as she once again sat up in her seat, "why should I be proud?"
"You got my fucking name right!"
Another thing about this man was that he could lighten any situation with a joke or a simple grin. Brooklyn had only known the guy for about two hours and she could already describe his personality- or so she thought.
Curling the corners of her mouth upwards in to a small smile, she shrugged, "Yeah I guess I did. Still, you don't know my name though."
Negan raised one brow, his egotistical smirk failing to leave his face, "shit I don't do I?" He paused and let out a hoarse chuckle, "Well? What is your name darlin'?"
Telling this man her real name couldn't hurt could it? She told Rick her real name, so why not tell Negan? She had nothing to loose.
With a widened smile she simply told him, "Brooklyn. My name's Brooklyn Scotts."
"That, is a beautiful fucking name," he complimented. He began saying her name in a choppy tone, letting each letter roll off the tip of his tongue, "Brooklyn. Brooklyn Scotts."
Emitting a quick giggle, the girl ran her fingers through her clotted hair, completely forgetting that it was like a dreaded mop.
Yet as she began to think about the past twenty four hours, another pang of guilt hit her as she remembered that guy Daryl and how aggressive he was when she mentioned Negan. Her smile vanished as she slumped back in her seat, "I'm an asshole," she murmured, gently shutting her eyelids.
Negan immediately noticed her sudden change of mood, "What the fuck is wrong now?"
"Well, those people, they trusted me but I escaped with their enemy. Should I feel bad, I mean, I was going to leave anyway. But I guess, I don't know, I guess I do feel kinda bad..." She rambled on, feeling awkward that she was pouring her heart out to a guy she barely knew.
She heard him sigh, "don't feel fucking bad darling. They put you in a crappy cell, which is fucking rude and I, for one, would not use the word trust to describe it."
His words were strangely comforting and the girl felt a protective vibe easing off of him. Negan winked at her, a couple wisps of his unkempt hair falling in front of his eyes, "now cheer the fuck up sweetheart. Rick Grimes is an asshole, don't waste your fucking thoughts on him."
Brooklyn half smiled and reached for her back pack, she unzipped it and carefully pulled out her lyric book and pen. She didn't have to look up to see Negan intently watching her, she could feel his stare against her shoulder.
Setting the pen to paper, Brooklyn calmly glanced out of the window, witnessing the serene forests bursting with colour and nature, almost untouched by anything as she whizzed past.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Questioned the man sat beside her, he sniggered and gave her the 'seriously?' look.
Brooklyn rolled her eyes, "I'm writing. What the hell does it look like I'm doing?"
"Writing what?"
"A song."
Negan parted his lips, forming an 'o' shape with his mouth. A tiny part of him was intrigued to know more about the girl but since one of his men was sat beside him, he didn't want to seem 'soft'.
"Well darlin', might as well put that shit away cause it looks like we're finally fucking home!" He praised, motioning his hands towards the cracked windows of the truck.
Averting her sight from the musty notebook, Brooklyn gasped at the sight of what looked like a huge factory. It had large fumes of wispy black smoke wafting out of the many chimneys and snarling creatures were tied up to the rusted chain link fencing. There were heavy armed guards holding dangerous weapons and other people dressed in tattered clothing with bright orange letters painted on the front.
As the truck slowly pulled to a stop, Brooklyn shoved her book in her bag and threw the door open. She hopped out, clasping on to the vehicle as she felt her ankle wobble slightly.
She limped alongside the truck until a strong arm supported her weight, "shit, you're not having much luck with that are you?" Negan teased, then with his free hand he extended his arm in to the open, "Welcome to the sanctuary Brooklyn. You're gonna fit in just fucking nicely!"
The girl kept her mouth shut and hobbled alongside him, she tightened her grip on her bag, making sure it was safe and within reach if she needed it. But as she noticed what the leader had clenched in his hand, her stomach uneasily twisted in to a tight knot.
It was the baseball bat from earlier, but what she didn't realise was that it was stained with faded splotches of blood and smothered in thick silvery strands of jagged barbed wire. Negan felt her body tense and maliciously smirked as he followed her line of sight, "beautiful ain't she?" He held the barbaric weapon in the air, praising it like some sort of trophy.
"Her name's Lucille. And she is fucking awesome!" Proclaimed the man, holding the bat in front of Brooklyn's nose.
Swallowing her fear, she managed to mumble, "cool," which only made her look pathetic. Her whole view of Negan had suddenly changed, maybe he was a madman or a murderous psychopath. But then again, how could she be so quick to judge? In a mad world, you'd have to be mad to be sane.
"Damn right she's cool," he drawled, swinging Lucille across his shoulder, "anyways let's go sweetheart. I gotta make an announcement and then we'll have ourselves a little chat about what to do with you."
Brooklyn was consumed by silence and so she simply said nothing. Her brain was trying to figure out what intentions this man had. What did he want with her? Or did he genuinely just save her?
She couldn't come up with an answer. All the girl could do was wait and see. Maybe Negan was trying to help. Or maybe there was more to him then Brooklyn knew.